


a thousand more just like

by seventhswan



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5141267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhswan/pseuds/seventhswan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Storm the walls, climb up to me, bring your knives.</i>
</p>
<p>Bethany in the Kirkwall Circle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a thousand more just like

Bethany writes letters to Isabela that she never sends - _please come for me_ , she scrawls at night, feeling half-desperate and ashamed, writing by the scant light of the full moon. _Storm the walls, climb up to me, bring your knives_.

There is no such thing as a private thought in the Kirkwall Circle. Tomorrow she will be scared that even when the parchment is burned, someone will still know the words she allowed herself, in a moment of madness, to write. Maybe her weakness will bleed straight through onto her hands, a terrible ink tattoo. Maybe next she will have to burn her hands.

She doesn’t write the rest; it’s even less safe. She just thinks about it – the rope wrapped around Isabela’s strong arms as she climbs, her gold eyes burning against the dark, the knife clamped between her teeth. Isabela could do it, Bethany has no doubt.

Bethany grits her teeth and sleeps, dreams of drifting on the waves. Dreams of a hand over her mouth and against her eyes, telling her that she can give herself up, let herself be helpless, that someone (ha! Someone, as though it isn’t always her, made up of a thousand wisps of smoke) is here to be her eyes, her voice.

Bethany wakes and pulls on her robes and brushes her hair. She goes about her day, thinking of nothing. She stands up and sits down at the right times, lowers her eyes when she speaks, prays in candlelight, turns her head away from the glint of fire on Templar armor. It’s gold, it’s too gold.


End file.
